


For Research Purposes Only

by yumimum



Series: I Take The Words 'Verse [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Missing Scene, New Earth, Romance, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:52:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumimum/pseuds/yumimum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Human arousal,” he whispered, mouth returning to his companion’s throat as his tongue danced frenetically across her fluttering pulse. “Nine centuries of Time and Space, and you, Rose Tyler, are the best thing to cross my taste buds in years…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Research Purposes Only

New Earth was beautiful. No doubt about it. Rolling hills and luscious meadows extended as far as the eye could see—a crystalline waterway separating them from the bustling metropolis of the city beyond. Rose knew she wouldn’t have missed this for the world—any of them—and sighing wistfully she sent a silent thanks to the TARDIS as the Doctor joined her on his outstretched overcoat.

“Research!” he declared, pinstriped legs crossed at the ankles as he rifled through his jacket pockets. “New body—well, new _everything,_ really. Regeneration is a tricky business, and this gustatory system needs a proper workout. What if I don’t like jam? What if I don’t like bananas? No! Wait! That’d be silly. How could anyone _not_ like bananas? Still, what if there’s a taste bud related emergency and the entire fate of a planet hinged on how I take my tea? Further study is needed, and _you_ , Rose Tyler, are just the person to help.”

His companion sniggered. “What? Because Christmas dinner wasn’t enough for you to figure this out?”

“Oh, you know me,” the Doctor replied, extracting a veritable banquet of bread, cheese and assorted fruit. “Always one for new experiences—expanding my horizons… buttering my parsnips— _Oh!_ Vegetables! Next stop Castle Fish Bar, circa 2007. Best chips this side of Mutter’s Spiral—and _that’s_ saying something.”

“Right…” Rose's stomach uttered a timely growl, and together they tucked into their feast—the Doctor launching into an impromptu history lesson as his eyes flitted constantly in her direction—a trait that had become increasing unnerving since their experience on the Game Station.

Rose sighed. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” A raised eyebrow was his only response, and the Doctor exhaled sharply, his gaze focusing on the hospital across the water. “You've been through a lot,” he whispered, unable to mask the worry in his voice. “You nearly died—you _did_ die... I thought I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t. I'm here.”

“I know," he replied. "But, Rose, you looked into the Vortex—absorbed the very heart of Time itself. No one’s meant to do that.”

“Are you angry?”

“No,” he rushed to assure her. “Troubled, perhaps. Torn… thankful… _tremendously terrified_ if I’m being brutally honest—but no, not angry. How could I be? Not when…” The Doctor shook his head, unwilling yet to meet her eyes. “Is that the sort of man I am now? Selfish? Blinkered?”

“Of course not,” Rose said, one palm resting lightly upon his cheek. “I made my choice a long time ago, and I’m never gonna leave you.”

“Never’s longer than it sounds.”

“Why? Afraid you can’t keep up, _old man_?”

The Doctor smiled. “Watch it, _young_ lady, or I’ll put you over my knee.”

“Promises, promises. Still, all the danger. All the running. _Me?_ Maybe you’ll want a normal life? Beans on toast. Friday night visits to the local—”

A low growl rumbled in the Time Lord’s throat at the erstwhile memory. “Does it feel like I’ll ever tire of this life, Rose Tyler?” he asked, a smirk curling his lips as he settled her firmly in his lap. “Don’t you remember what I told you? Our first time? _Well,_ I say first—first in that body, at least. Remind me to load up the TARDIS archives. Refresh your—what? Rose? _What?_ Why are you looking at me like that?”

_“Archives?_ ”

“Ah…”

“Seriously?”

A pink flush crept up the Doctor’s neck. “Now, Rose, be fair. It must’ve been quite a shock for the Old Girl. All things considered, she probably thought we’d been infected by Floranian sex pollen or something. Only right she’d want to record the uh… activities, for future analysis.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

Rose bit her bottom lip. “Nothing, ‘s just…”

“Oh, come on. _What?_ ”

Giggling, her attention turned to his hair, both hands combing through the silky strands as she arranged them to her liking. “I was just wondering what Jack would make of your homemade porno—”

“Historical documentation.”

“ _Whatever._ Maybe I should ring him? Invite him back for pizza and a movie.”

The Time Lord chuckled. “I don't think so, Rose Tyler. Our friend, the Captain, is currently enjoying some much-deserved R an’ R in the Lotus Nebula. Last I heard, he had his hands full with the famous Kazlachian twins of Kapteyn 5. Seventeen simultaneous pleasures are more than enough for any man, I shouldn’t wonder. We’ll swing by and get him when he’s ready. Saving the Universe ought to have some perks, after all.”

“Like _picnics?_ ”

“Correctamundo!” The Doctor winced. “A word I've never used before, and hopefully never will again. Now! Enough procrastinating. I believe I asked you a question. And since I can only assume your hormone driven mind was busy elsewhere—”

“ _Rude!_ ”

“—then it falls to me to remind you.” Ignoring her scowl, he dropped a kiss to her forehead. “I said you were mine. And I meant every word. You’re stuck with me, Rose Tyler, and don’t you forget it.” Slowly, he closed the gap between them; their lips meeting in the briefest of touches before— “Pears!” he cried, looking at her as if she’d just stolen his last jelly baby. “You taste of pears!”

“Yeah… and?”

“I hate pears. You know I do. They’re gross, and icky… and…”

Rose rolled her eyes. _Honestly!_ For a supposed genius, he sure had the communication skills of a two year old. “Well don’t blame me,” she said, stifling a laugh as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You’re the one who brought lunch.”

“ _Clearly,_ I need to have a word with my traitorous ship.”

“Why? Just because she doesn’t support your irrational fruit phobia? There’s no need to get stroppy just ‘cause she likes me more.”

Outnumbered, the Doctor shot a mutinous glare back towards the TARDIS, then, with both hands on Rose’s waist, he manoeuvred her back upon their makeshift blanket. “Irrational?” he muttered, easing his leg between her thighs as he positioned himself above her. “Irrational, she says! There’s a reason a plan goes pear-shaped, Rose Tyler. Never hear any complaints about apples now, do you? Gwampa berries? Riverfruit? Bananas! Now there’s a fine example of natural selection. Can’t go wrong with long and curved, that’s what I always say. It’s all in the angle.”

Rose sniggered. “So I’ve noticed.”

“Behave.”

“Sorry! Sorry! Far be it for me to interrupt an Oncoming tantrum.”

“For your information,” the Doctor replied, sniffing haughtily as he spotted a peach that’d rolled free from their meal, “this is a well-balanced, perfectly thought out…” Absently, he bit into his prize, humming his approval around the velvety skin. “Where was I? Oh yes! Favouritism! Good old fashioned—you know… this is actually rather good.”

“No kidding.”

“Want some?”

Before Rose could even process his question, the Doctor had covered her mouth in a quick, sloppy kiss, breaking the embrace only to laugh at his companion’s mewl of disgust.

“Now, peaches,” he continued shamelessly, “ _There’s_ my kind of fruit. Supple. Sweet—”

“Sticky…”

The Time Lord’s eyes darkened as he watched her swipe at the fragrant juices, grasping her by the wrist as he brought the slick digits to his own mouth and licked them clean.

“Doctor?”

“Yes, Rose?”

She swallowed hard, overcome by a sudden bout of shyness. “We’re _outside,_ ” she said, her breath coming short and fast as the Doctor worked his way through the buttons of her blouse.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Immediately, Rose’s heart skipped a beat at she recalled that first kiss—a million worlds, and a whole other lifetime ago. She’d accepted this new, new Doctor and all his quirks, yet to hear those words spoken without his beloved Northern inflection was still a little jarring.

“I’ve never…”

“Hmm…”

“You know… out in the open like this…”

With a quick _flick_ the Doctor released the front clasp of her bra, both hands moving to cup her breasts as his thumbs rubbed teasingly across her nipples. “Didn’t know you were the shy sort?”

“I’m not. I’m just…” Exasperated, she gestured between them. “What happens next?”

“ _Well,_ Rose…” The Doctor’s fingers trailed slowly towards her stomach. “…when a man and a woman like each other _very_ much—”

“Not that, you git!”

“Oi!” He reared back, gingerly cradling the back of his head. “No hitting your bond-mate, Rose Tyler.”

“I’ll do more than that if you—”

Her words died in an instant—a gasp, caught in her throat as he ground his erection against the apex of her thighs. "Don’t you worry about a thing,” the Doctor said, removing his suit jacket as his tie hung loosely from around his neck. “You’ve a curious Time Lord with an oral fixation just waiting to do your bidding. So relax. Close your eyes. And if all else fails?” The Doctor smirked. “Just lie back and think of Gallifrey...”

 

 

A wise man once said, ‘if music be the food of love, play on’—and, as Rose’s sighs echoed in his ears, the Doctor was determined to hear her sing. His coat was drenched in her scent; much as his leather jacket had been in the weeks prior to his regeneration—and the Time Lord smiled, feeling like he could happily drown in the intoxicating elixir of _them._

“Human arousal,” he whispered, mouth returning to his companion’s throat as his tongue danced frenetically across her fluttering pulse. “Nine centuries of Time and Space, and _you,_ Rose Tyler, are the best thing to cross my taste buds in years…”

“ _Years?_ ”

“Decades,” he continued, crushing a handful of berries and smearing the pulpy residue across her stomach. “We never did make it to Barcelona, did we? The planet, mind—not the city. There’s a little shop in downtown Catalonia—and you know how much I _love_ a little shop—their triple fudge banana sundae will knock your socks off.”

The Doctor winked, his gaze skimming lazily down the length of her body as he lapped at the syrupy mixture. “… Assuming you were wearing any of course.” Most of Rose’s clothing had disappeared along with her inhibitions, and moving lower, he nuzzled against the damp crotch of her underwear. “Did I ever tell you I’ve got a good nose for clues—”

“Amongst other things…”

“—and you, my precious girl, are hiding a source of nectar so delightful it’ll put even these Ulanda pods to shame.”

“Copper's hunch?”

“Something like that.” The Doctor chuckled as he guided the soft cotton over her ankles, tossing it carelessly towards the pile of discarded garments. “Permission to follow it up, Sarge?”

A shaky nod was the best Rose could manage, and without ceremony the Doctor darted forward, his left hand tightening on her hip as he tasted her at the source. “Delicious,” he muttered, thumb circling her clit as she hissed in a breath, unable to fight the instinctive arch of her back. “It’s the combinations, you see? Sweet and sour. Salty and bitter. I don’t think you appreciate the sheer magnitude of this task. The dedication… the diligence…”

“The _dorkiness?_ ”

“That too,” the Doctor agreed, suckling at the swollen bundle of nerves as he thrust two fingers inside her, strumming at that elusive spot until she started to tremble. His senses were consumed by her—this one impossible human. Like a lure, she reeled him in, throwing his hearts and mind into turmoil, until he saw nothing—knew nothing, but the pink and yellow girl at the centre of his Universe. "Beautiful," he murmured, words of love in an ancient language drifting across her skin as she bucked against him. “So very beautiful.”

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promised, her whispered entreaties spurring him on. “I’m here… Let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you."

She was close—so close he could feel it—and desperate to see her fall apart, the Doctor doubled his efforts, rubbing, stroking, nipping, at the engorged nub until her hands were fisted in his coat, her soft moans painting the air around them.

“Come for me, angel.”

“Oh god…”

“Right here, right now. Let me see it—let me _taste_ it… let me hear you scream.”

Their mental link flared to life, and because he was her Doctor, and because his wish was her command too, Rose found herself soaring—his name a prayer on her lips as wave after wave of sensation surged through her, leaving her lost, adrift, floating in a maelstrom of his own wondrous design.

 

 

“Oral fixation, huh? How’s that working for ya?”

How long he’d been dozing he wasn’t quite sure—but as his lover’s voice filtered through his post-coital haze, the Doctor chuckled, shifting to rest his chin upon her stomach. “Isn’t that my line?”

“Perhaps,” she said, gifting him with that tongue-touched grin he absolutely adored. “Can’t say I’ve ever been used as a personal smorgasbord before.”

“It’s the fresh air—fuels the appetite.”

Rose’s eyes drifted deliberately towards his crotch. “It fuelled _something_ , alright…”

“Problem?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” And the Doctor smiled, already plotting a trip to the Globe Theatre. Perhaps the Bard would appreciate a fruit basket too…


End file.
